


Hold On Tight, You're Not Alone

by lolokay



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Anorexia, Eating Disorders, M/M, Self-Harm, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:27:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolokay/pseuds/lolokay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has a secret, and no one’s ever going to know</p><p>Louis has a secret, and everyone knows</p><p>Zayn has a secret, and everyone better keep their mouth’s shut</p><p>Harry, Louis, and Zayn are your average students. They have friends, they play sports, they talk shit. But they, along with their friends Liam and Niall, have bigger problems to solve.</p><p>New cuts keep showing up, he keeps getting skinnier, and the bruises have to be coming from somwhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Maybe, But Probably Not (Harry)

“Ah!” I yelled as I tumbled out of bed in my search for my blaring alarm clock.

Fucking Mondays.

I dragged myself off of the floor and into my ensuite bathroom, shutting off the alarm on the way. I started the shower and turned to stare in the mirror, groaning at my disheveled appearance. If I could just get those damned voices to shut up, I could get some sleep and maybe I wouldn’t look so ghoulish in the morning.

Fag they whispered, making me clench my teeth don’t let anyone find out, fairy. No one will want to be near you. They might catch the gay.

For the most part, the voices hate me. 

The voices started sometime around my fourteenth birthday, when I figured out that I liked boys the way most guys liked girls (the way I should like girls) and they haven’t let up since, berating me with slurs and insults whenever they feel necessary and keeping me firmly in the closet. If they were a person, I’d probably beat the hell out of them, but as it stands they live in my brain and I don’t fancy hitting myself over the head.

Kinda prefer slicing my skin open instead.

Ah, yes, cutting is my drug of choice. Pretty little beads of red that bloom like carnations before turning into a steady drip of crimson and making ragged scars to run your finger over later when you stutter or trip. I used to do it more often, but as of late I’ve found that it’s only worth the long sleeves for a month when I’m particularly upset. I haven’t done it in almost six months.

I slide into the shower and let the steamy water run over me and relax my body while I lather my hair with peppermint scented shampoo and scrub my pale skin with sandalwood soap, taking a few minutes to just stand with my head down before exiting the comfort and warmth of the steamy shower and dressing in my uniform, a white polo and (sinfully tight, thanks) black pants (with a shit ton of bracelets, obviously, because we can’t have anyone seeing the precious white lines that mar my wrist).

School sounds about as appealing as being attacked by wild boars at the moment.

“Harry! Harry, love, you’re going to miss breakfast and you know that’s the most important meal of the day!” my mum calls up the stairs to me. I don’t remember the last time I actually ate more than two bites of my breakfast, but she still tries every morning like I’m going to magically grow out of it. I slump down the stairs, dreading the day more and more with every thunk of my white converse on the linoleum.

“Morning, Haz.” Zayn mutters from his seat at the kitchen table. Zayn is, for all intents and purposes, living with me until the end of school (this year) so that his brother can’t beat the shit out of him anymore while his parents watch.

“Mmm.” I grumble back as a greeting, taking a seat and glaring at my French toast like it murdered my goldfish. I never have an appetite in the morning.

I certainly don’t now that I’m thinking of dead goldfish.

I force a few bites down before deciding to screw breakfast and eat two bags of crisps with my sandwich at lunch because if I eat another mouthful I’m going to puke all over Zayn’s immaculate quiff. He stands, motioning for me to follow him as he grabs his keys from the kitchen island. We make our way out the door and to the driveway, hopping into his little blue truck wordlessly. Zayn knows I don’t like to talk in the mornings.

Zayn doesn’t like to talk in general.

We’ve pulled up outside the monstrous brick structure they like to call a school in under 15 minutes and I kind of want to kill Zayn because speeding is really annoying when you don’t want to be somewhere. As we exit the car Zayn gives me a look that’s almost apologetic before he says “I had a meeting with the counselor this morning. That’s why we’re early.”

“Lovely. Good luck with that, champ.” I say sarcastically, patting his back as we enter the school.

“Harry! Zayn!” Liam and Niall call out to us as we come upon our clustered of lockers. I feel a pair of arms around me and before I can push whoever it is away I hear a melodic voice in my ear.

“Hazza! Have you grown? I missed you! How was your weekend?” Louis quick fires, not relenting his bear hug on me.

“It’s only been two days, Boo Bear. I don’t think I’ve grown.” I laugh into his feathery caramel fringe.

“Humor me” he murmurs in my ear, so low only I can hear “I feel terribly short and pudgy today.”

“Short and pudgy my left arse cheek.” I say back in the same quiet tone.

“Your arse isn’t pudgy, that’d be me.” he laughs easily and places a (platonic) kiss to my cheek.

“Your arse is fit.” I shove him lightly.

Did I mention I’m totally, flamingly gay for Louis Tomlinson?

Did I mention I’m totally, flamingly gay for Louis Tomlinson who’s totally, flamingly gay and in a totally flamingly gay relationship?

Must’ve slipped my mind.

Well, now that that’s out there, would you like for me to go on for hours about his crinkly, cerulean eyes or his thin, pink lips? How about his sinfully long eyelashes or his nearly feminine curves? Or maybe the tinkling bell sound of his laugh or how he always gets me to buy him Pepsi from the vending machine or the way we cuddle when we watch movies? Perhaps the way the sound of his voice is the only thing that I can think of sometimes or the fact that I’ve wanked to nothing but him in the shower for a year?

Because I could talk forever about Louis fucking Tomlinson. I could also talk forever about what a dick his boyfriend Jamie is, if you’d like.

See, Jamie tells Louis things that are about the exact opposite of true. He tells him that the way his thighs jiggle just a tiny bit is disgusting, and that he’s too stupid to ever be anything but Jamie’s precious trophy husband, and that he’s worth about as much as a cheap hooker (if that) and that he’s ‘lucky’ that Jamie puts up with him, because Louis’ a prat and Louis’ terrible and no one could ever want Louis.

I guess I’m kind of no one.

Another thing I could talk forever about is how much Jamie’s comments effect Louis. See, Louis doesn’t think we’ve noticed, but he hasn’t eaten his lunch in about two months.

Come to think of it, Louis hasn’t eaten anything but paper-thin apple slices and half-handfuls of walnut pieces in about two months.

Jamie has it in Louis’ head that he’s fat, and that no one really likes him, and that Louis should be grateful that Jamie’s with him because “I’m 23, kid. You’re just 17. I could do a lot better than you, but I love you so I guess I’ll stick around.”

I kind of want to fucking kill Jamie. I also kind of want to kill Louis sometimes for staying with him, but Louis’ just so screwed up that he thinks he deserves it. He thinks this is a good, functioning relationship.

Louis’ kind of an idiot sometimes.

Except sometimes he’s really insightful, and he’s figured out that there’s something Zayn and I aren’t telling him about why Zayn’s living with me. Unlike Liam and Niall, Louis has seen past the “Harry just lives closer, and gas is a bitch. Plus, free food!” and he knows something’s up.

I swear I’ve almost told him a million times. If it was my secret to tell, it’d be older news than the OJ trial.

If it was my secret to tell Zayn’s brother would be in jail. But it’s not, so he’s not, and Zayn can’t go home, and Louis can’t know. But things are kind of coming to a head as of late, and the head’s about to burst today at lunch.

“Lou, why aren’t you eating. You’ve dropped a bunch of weight and you never eat anymore.” Zayn says, glaring at Louis’ untouched lunch and half-drained Evian.

“Why were you in the counselor’s office all morning?” Louis shoots back. He wraps his thin arms around his stomach protectively and gives Zayn the look a toddler would give his parent after he’s just been put in time-out.

“Tactful, guys, really.” I grumble, gnawing on my lip and scratching at my wrist.

“It needs to be said, Harry! You’ve seen it! He doesn’t eat!” Zayn waves an accusatory hand in Louis’ direction.

“And you two never tell me what’s going on!” Louis answers in the same tone, seeming to retreat further into himself.

Zayn huffs out a breath before he nearly yells “You don’t need to be in the middle of everything, Louis!”

“You don’t need to keep secrets from your best friend, Zayn! Harry knows! I know Harry knows! We’re supposed to be best mates and you completely disregard me when it comes to secrets!” Louis defends, tears forming in his bright eyes.

I honestly don’t think I can watch this if he’s going to cry.

“Maybe I’d trust that you have enough sense to keep my secrets if you had enough sense to leave your abusive fucking boyfriend, Louis!”

“Zayn! Shut the hell up!” I bark, putting an arm around Louis protectively. He’s openly crying now, tears dribbling across his sharp cheekbones like a leaky faucet. “C’mon, love, let’s go to the bathroom. He’s just mad, he’ll cool down. It’s gonna be okay.” I murmur to him, standing and leading him away from the cafeteria and into the men’s room. As soon as the door shuts behind us I fold him into my chest and encircle him with my arms, letting him stain my shirt with tears.

“I can’t eat, Harry, I can’t. Then I’ll get fat and Jamie will leave me and who else is going to want me? No one will love me if I’m fat, Harry. I can’t eat.” He sobs, breaking my heart with each word.

“Oh, Louis. Louis, Louis, Louis. You’re gorgeous, okay? You aren’t fat, you’ve never been fat, and if anything you’re too skinny now. He’s lying to you, babe.” I try to convince him. He just shakes his head.

“He’d never lie to me, Harry. He’s my boyfriend.” Louis defends, pulling away from our embrace.

I want to say yes, Louis, that makes perfect sense. Boyfriends are immune to lying. That’s accurate.

Instead I say “believe what you want, Lou. But I’m telling you, you aren’t fat and you never have been.”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t get an attitude.”

“Whatever.”

“Louis, stop.” I plead, feeling the tears collect in my eyes. He can’t be mad at me. I’ll absolutely die.

“Sorry.” He grumbles and crosses his arms, eyes trained on the floor. “Just, don’t even talk about Jamie with me. Don’t even go there. That’s your go-to for everything bad that happens to me.”

“I just don’t think he treats you the way you deserve, Louis.” I try again, knowing my attempt to get him to see reason is futile.

“I deserve exactly what I get. I’m not as great as you think I am.” He glowers at the wall darkly, unable to meet my eyes.

“Oh, Lou. I wish you could see what I see.” I pull him into me again despite the stiffness in his shoulders. “Maybe one day you will.”

“Maybe, but probably not.”


	2. It Just So Happens (Louis)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning!!!* I know it’s already in the triggers, but this chapter contains graphic depictions of rape and should be read with extreme caution. Your safety is more important than reading a chapter in a story. If you are easily triggered by rape, please send me a message and I will give you a summary of the chapter.

“Jesus Christ, Louis, do you need crisps? You’ve still got a good bit to go before you get to your goal weight.” Jamie spits, snatching the baked Lays out of my hand. I look down and bite my lip, fighting back tears.

“Sorry. I forgot.” I whisper.

Jamie barks out a laugh “How do you forget? Do you own a mirror, love?”

“Can we please not today? I’ve had a bad day, Jay.” My lip quivers again, thinking back to Harry and Zayn.

“Oh, what happened? Did your ‘friends’ upset you? Why do you hang out with them, Louis? I told you I don’t like them, and I know what’s best for you, remember?” Jamie hovers over me, leering over my petite frame with a menacing smirk.

I know better than to fight, know it will only get me hurt, but I respond anyway. “They’re all I have, Jay. You aren’t at school with me.”

“I could be if you ever fucking texted me back!” he’s yelling now.

Fuck. This is going to hurt.

“I’m not allowed to have my phone on at school, Jamie. You know that.” I try to reason.

Big mistake.

The palm of his hand connects with my cheek leaving the skin red and stinging, and I let out a little yelp at the pain. Before I can move to defend myself Jamie has shoved me to the ground, looming over me. The toe of his boot slams into my thigh, sure to leave a bruise among the others that live where my clothing can cover them.

This happens a lot, lately.

Jamie grabs my shirt collar, hauling me back to my feet and giving me a bruising kiss to my lips.

“I only did that because I love you. You know that, right Louis? I’ve gotta makes sure you behave, baby. I know what’s best for you, princess.”

I sniffle, biting my lip and nodding at him “I know Jay. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, love. Just try harder next time, alright?” his voice was back to the gentleness that I remember it being when we first dated.

Back when I was still Louis.

See, mine and Jamie’s relationship has changed me a lot. I used to eat all the time (I was quite disgusting, really) and I never shut up (I was quite annoying, really).

Then, six months ago, I met Jamie, and Jamie taught me how to be perfect.

I’m in love with Jamie (really, I am) but sometimes I wish he would let me do a little more. I haven’t seen my friends outside of school (with the exception of Skype dates) for four months.

I haven’t eaten an actual meal in three. I stopped eating anything but the bare minimum two months ago.

I feel the effects from that worst at night, that’s when the hunger pains make their appearance and claw at the inside of my stomach. I’ve always had a decent metabolism, so I dropped the weight pretty fast. I thought when I reached double digits, Jamie would let me eat again.

No such luck. 95lbs was not good enough for Jamie, or for me.

I have to be good enough for him.

If I’m not, who else is going to love me?

I’m damaged.

As we stood there looking at each other, my phone began to ring.

I got them moves like Jagger

Shut up.

I got them moves like Jagger.

Seriously please call back later.

I got them mo-o-o-o-o-o-o-oves like Jagger.

God damn it Jamie’s going to be so mad.

Take my by-

“Hello?” I seethed, irritated at whoever was calling me because they were certainly going to get me in trouble.

“L-Louis?” a sniffling voice answered. He’d obviously been crying.

My heart jumped to my throat “Harry? Haz, what’s wrong?”

“I need to talk to you. Come over, Lou-Lou. Please.”

I look to Jamie, then cast my eyes toward the floor.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea right now, Haz. I’m with Jamie. I’ll see you at school tomorrow, yeah? You can talk to me then.” I told him, using the most placating voice I could because I knew at least one person was going to end up mad by the time this phone call finishes.

“Fuck him. I want my Lou back. He’s a fucking cunt, Louis.” Harry raged tearfully.

“Verbally attacking my boyfriend isn’t going to get you anywhere, Harry.” I sassed.

I could practically hear him roll his eyes “Louis, don’t give me that shit. You have a car. You see Jamie every day after school. Just come to my fucking house.”

“Why? So you and Zayn can be all conspiratorial over my head when you think I’m not paying attention? Honestly, Harry, why do you even still pretend to like me?” my voice rose a few decibels to match my anger.

“Louis, don’t even say that. I love you. You’re my best friend. And Zayn isn’t here, he went home.”

I may have been imagining it, but Harry didn’t sound too happy about Zayn going home.

I’m probably imagining it.

“Fine. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” I muttered. I turned back around to see an irritated Jamie stalking towards me.

“So, what, you’re ditching me for your stupid little friends?” he asked, eyes dark.

I bit my lip and spit out the first excuse that came to mind “He wouldn’t have left me alone, Jay. I’m doing this for both of us so we don’t have to deal with him again.”

“Whatever, Louis. Just go. I love you, but you’re a fucking idiot. Bye.” He wrenched the front door of his apartment open and shoved me outside, slamming and locking it back in my face.

It took me 10 minutes to drive to Harry’s house.

I was kind of hoping I’d never get there.

Curse my lead foot.

I knocked quietly on the door, surprised when it was Anne that answered instead of Harry. “Louis?” she questioned, rubbing her eyes like she didn’t believe I was really there.

“Uh. Yeah. Hey, Anne. Is Harry here? He, uh, called me.” I gnawed on my bottom lip nervously.

I haven’t seen Anne for a good three and a half months.

“In his room, love. You remember where that is, don’t you? Have you lost weight, Lou? You look positively tiny.”

I took a deep breath before lying. “Only a few pounds. Nothing to brag about. I’m just gonna go see Haz now.”

“Alright… well, call me if you boys need anything…” she offered, patting me on the back.

I flinched.

I climbed the stairs slowly, avoiding reaching whatever waited for me at the top, but eventually I got there anyway. I lifted my hand and knocked on Harry’s bedroom door, almost punching him in the eye when he opened it before I finished.

“Sorry.” I murmured, withdrawing my small fist from his personal space.

“S’fine.” He whispered back.

His face was tear-streaked and red.

Fuck.

“What’s wrong, Hazza?” I asked, immediately giving him the tightest hug I could manage.

It wasn’t very tight.

He sniffled against my shoulder, wetting my oversized school hoodie with his tears. “Everything’s falling apart, Lou.” He whimpered.

“Hey, no it isn’t. Everything’s going to be okay, Hazza. Calm down, okay love?” I tried to soothe him. My heart was breaking for the poor boy in my arms. “I’m gonna fix it, okay? Everything’s fine. You’re fine, we’re fine, Zayn and Li and Niall are fine. Just please stop crying.” We went to sit on his bed, him propped against the headboard with his knees to his chest while I sat crisscross at the baseboard. “Why don’t you tell me what’s happened to make you think that?”

“Zayn and I had a fight.” He cried openly now, wiping his tears on the back of his arm.

Well that’s not good. Zayn and Harry never fight. “What about, sweetheart?”

“Y-you. I chewed him out for being so m-mean to you t-t-today. You d-didn’t de-deserve that.” He stuttered through his sobs “Y-you get enough sh-shit as it i-is.”

“Oh, Hazza Bear. You didn’t need to fight with Zayn over me. Please don’t start trouble over something stupid like me. It’s not worth it.” I implored, rubbing my face as if I could wipe away the events of this day.

Today’s been pretty shit, thus far.

“You’re not stupid and you are worth it.” Harry snapped. “You’re a perfectly good reason to fight with someone because you are important.”

“You’ve really fucked your priorities if you think I’m worth fighting with Zayn over, Harry.” I bit out sarcastically.

“You’ve really fucked your priorities if you thing you’re not.” He answered in the same tone, then softened “Look, Lou-Lou. I don’t want to fight with you too. I’m sorry I’m having an attitude. You just frustrate me.”

“It’s not your responsibility to get frustrated over me, Harry.”

“You’re my friend, so yes it is, Louis.”

“Can we please stop fighting now? Why did you call me over here?” I asked, willing our past argument out of my mind so that I wouldn’t be angry when he spoke.

“We need to talk about your eating, Lou.” Well there goes not being angry.

“Jesus fucking Christ I eat just fine will everybody please just leave me alone?!” I yelled, getting off the bed and pacing about the room.

“You don’t eat just fine! You don’t eat!” he threw his hands into the air exasperatedly “How much do you weigh, Louis? And don’t lie because if I think you’re lying I’ll hold you down and get your kit off and weigh you myself.”

“That’s kind of rude, Harry.” I avoided, unwilling to admit the extent of the weight I’d lost.

“I literally could not give less of a fuck right now.”

“95.” I muttered. “I weigh 95 pounds. Go ahead, laugh. I’m not eating and I’m still fat.” I pinched the skin on my stomach disgustedly.

“You weigh 95 pounds? Jesus, Lou, how’re you not dead?”

“Because I’m fat?”

“Because you’re being a stubborn idiot?”

“You’re being a dick, Harry.”

“So are you, Louis.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I’m leaving, Harry. When you’re ready to have a civilized conversation with me without criticizing either my weight or my boyfriend, call me. Until then you may as well lose my number.”

Without waiting for his reply, I turned on my heel only to be stopped by Harry’s hand on my hip, hard enough to leave a bruises on my paper-thin skin.

"Lou, I’m sorry, okay? Please stay. Don’t go back to him, baby please?"

"I’m not your fucking baby, Harry. I’m not anyone’s baby. And if you really loved me then you’d just accept that this is how I want to be and Jamie is who I want to be with. Just leave me alone, Harry." I stormed away from him, not giving him time to stop me again, and went straight to Jamie’s, in tears by the time I reached the dingy apartment building.

“Jay? C’mon, Jay, open up.” I said, knocking on the door loudly.

The door flew open and a palm immediately smacked my cheek before I was being dragged into the small living room.

“So nice of you to come home, you little prat.” Jamie seethed. “It just so happens that while you were off slutting around with your little boyfriend, I had plenty of time to think of all the ways to punish you. On your hands and knees, Louis. I’m going to show you who you really belong to.”

It just so happens that no matter if it’s a stranger or your boyfriend, rape never feels good.

"Jamie, please stop." i whimpered, unable to move when he covered my small body with his larger one. He rolled me over to face him and, without even allowing me the luxury of prep, forced himself inside me.

Dry.

I was being ripped apart and I could do nothing but lie there and take it until he finished, collapsing on top of me.

He rolled off to get a cloth and clean us up, but before I felt the relief of a cool cloth on my blushing and bruised skin, Jamie stopped.

"Louis, What the fuck is that?"

It just so happens that I’m a dead man.


	3. Nothing Ever Changes (Zayn)

I should’ve listened to Harry.

The minute I’d walked in the door I’d been tempted to walk right back out, considering the stench of alcohol and cigarettes that polluted the small, three-bedroom apartment.

Except I didn’t exactly know if I had anywhere to go. Apparently when Harry and I fight, it isn’t pretty.

“Why’re you here?” my brother, Declan, seethed.

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought for a moment they may pop right out of my skull and begin rolling around on the floor. “I live here.”

“Thought you lived with your boyfriend.” He scoffed, standing and folding his arms across his chest.

I bit my lip and blinked a bit before trying to make myself seem as big and confident as possible. See, Declan is 6’2 and 200 lbs. Him in this stance is a little bit intimidating.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” I stated simply, then added “You don’t scare me, Declan.”

“I should, Zayn.” With that he placed two hands on my chest and shoved me back against the wall.

Lots of things happened really fast and I’m not exactly positive which order they happened in.

The door opened, Declan’s hand was pulled away from where it was about to connect with my face, and someone yanked me out of our apartment faster than I could blink.

“Liam?!” I yelled, shocked at the warm brown eyes that anxiously appraised me as he walked me to his car.

He yanked me into a tight hug before he shoved me into the passenger seat of his car. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. What the hell are you doing at my apartment?” I questioned, willing my speeding breath to slow because it’s just Liam and there is no reason to freak out.

“Saving your ass?”

“My ass doesn’t need saving, Liam.” I sassed, leaning against the door of the now moving vehicle.

“Well I saved it anyway, now didn’t I? My instruction was to go get you, make sure you were okay, and take you to Harry’s with minimal questions.” He explained, taking back streets that led out of the rougher parts of town and into the immaculate front porches and pristine gardens that Harry called home. “Y’could thank me or something, Z.”

I bit my lip and muttered out a regretful “Thanks.”

It’s not that I’m not grateful that Liam swooped in and helped me, because I am. I am.

I’m pretty mad that I needed help in the first place, since I’m always to keep a lid on things.

I’m really mad that Harry sent Liam. Like, who does he think he is? Liam has to know my secret now. He has to know far more than I ever wanted anyone but Harry to know. So if Harry thought I needed saving so bad, why didn’t he just come and get me himself?

Because we had a fight and he’s a dick and he doesn’t want to help anyone when he’s mad at them unless it’s his precious baby fucking Louis, that’s why.

As Liam pulls up in front of Harry’s perfect little house I turn to him and say “I got it from here, you can just go. You better not tell anyone about this.”

I slammed the car door and trudged up the front porch steps before he was finished promising “I won’t.”

When I entered the home to find that Anne wasn’t home yet, I stalked my way up to Harry’s room and pounded on the closed door, ready to get the inevitable fight out of the way.

As the door was unlocked and slowly pulled open I realized maybe Harry didn’t come and get me not because he was a dick, but because I doubted he could see straight with the amount of tears running down his face. He flung himself onto me, wrapping his arms around my slim torso and burying his head in my neck.

Harry’s a really touchy person.

He’s like my brother.

It’s really not that weird to get a random embrace from him after a fight.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, oh my god I’m sorry.” He sobbed as he clung to me for dear life. “I should’ve come to get you. But Li’s stronger than me. I’m so sorry, Zayn, I didn’t tell him any more than I had to.”

He was playing dirty. Who could possibly sit there and stay angry when they had this little cherub sobbing out apologies like he killed someone and holding on to you like he thought you were dead?

Everyone’s a sucker for Harry god damn Styles.

“Shh, Haz, it’s okay. I’m not mad anymore. I’m fine, nothing happened, Liam got there just in time. Everything’s okay. Please calm down a bit so we can talk, yeah? We need to get the things we said earlier sorted out.”

He nodded against me before detaching himself, going to his desk to retrieve a box of tissues and breathing deep, trying calm himself down. It took him about 20 minutes to get his shit together enough to be able to form complete sentences and not let sobs hitch his every breath again.

“Okay, I’m fine. I’m good. We’re going to pretend I never left and we’re going to pick up where we left off, except we aren’t going to yell and we’re going to try and see each other’s ways before blindly debating because that obviously got us nowhere.” I told him in a voice similar to the one I would use to calm an upset child. “Now, have you talked to Lou since I left?”

Harry nodded “He just left.”

“T’go where?” like I didn’t already know…

“Jamie’s. I swear I tried to stop him, Z, but he wouldn’t listen to me and I was being a dick but he wouldn’t listen.” Harry shook with the tears he was fighting to keep off of his face, willing himself to retell the events without flipping out. “He told me he weighs 95 pounds, Zayn. 95. He should be dead or something. I mean, what’s healthy weight for someone who’s like 5’3? It’s not 95 pounds.”

“No, it isn’t. Harry we really need to get Louis away from Jamie.” I sighed, wringing my hands as I took a seat on his bed. “He’s fucking his brain and Lou didn’t even have the best confidence to start off with. The longer he’s with him the longer it’s going to take to get him better.”

“I know but he won’t listen and I don’t know what to do anymore.” Harry cried, sitting next to me and laying his head on my shoulder. “I love him, Zaynie. I don’t want him to be hurting like this anymore. Just like I don’t want you to be hurting. I swear to god if you ever just take off for your house again like that I’ll kill you. I was worried to death, Zayn.”

“I love you too, Haz. And I love Lou. I know you only want the exact same thing I do for him and I shouldn’t have fought with you. I’m sorry.” I murmured, patting his curls softly.

“It’s just, I felt like you were giving up.” Harry confessed “You can’t just give up on Loubear like that. He’s just scared.”

“But you can’t keep making excuses for him, Harry. I know everything’s different with you an Lou. I don’t pretend to know why but I know you’d probably kill your own mum without question if Louis asked you to. But you can not let him do whatever he wants. Harry, Lou needs someone to look after him because he obviously can’t do it himself. You can’t just let him leave for Jamie’s or make empty promises to eat more over and over again and be surprised when it doesn’t work out for the millionth time. Obviously you being unconditionally loving and caring is not what Louis needs. Obviously Louis needs us to tell him how it’s going to fucking be because the way Louis wants things are not the way Louis should have things and he can’t keep lying and refusing help.” I admonish quietly “Lou needs our help, Haz.”

He breathed out a sigh, picking his head back up and turning to look me in the eye.

“Zayn, I can’t force him into it. I can’t just tell him what to do. Then I’d be as bad as Jamie.”

“We’re doing it for his own good.”

“I can’t do it, Zayn!” Harry suddenly busted out “I can’t just yell at him and force him to do things just because they’re what I think is best! We can’t tell him how to live his life because for the rest of our friendship he’s going to look at us and think you forced me into being like this. What if he’s happy the way he is?”

I snorted “Harry that’s ridiculous. Look at him for ten minutes and tell me he looks happy. He’s near dead because he’s not allowed to eat. That isn’t happy.”

“What if he never forgives us, Zayn? What if he never gets over it and never talks to us again?” Harry whispered, wiping at the tears that finally found their way out of his eyes again.

“Then he never forgives us and he never gets over it and he never talks to us again. We’d still be saving his life.” I stated simply.

“I just can’t do this with him.”

“I know.” I nodded, deciding to sympathize with Harry for the moment to keep another fight at bay. “Get your laptop and get on Skype. Just see if he’s on.”

With my instruction Harry retrieved the silver MacBook on his desk and returned to his bed, opening the computer and clicking on the Skype icon.

The little green bubble next to Lou-Lou was full.

“Send him a message. Ask if he wants to talk.” I urged. Harry typed a quick messaged before hitting enter.

Harry S: Lou I’m sorry can we please talk.

Lou-Lou: I guess? I look kind of shit right now.

Harry S: I’m sure you’re just fine, babe.

And with that the ‘incoming video call’ ring tone began to sound through Harry’s speakers before Harry clicked ‘answer with video’ and a teary eyed Louis appeared on the screen.

“Hi guys. Glad you’re back, Zaynie.” Louis waved and tried to smile. The stark lighting of wherever he was coupled with the white tiled walls leeched the color from his usually tan skin.

“…Louis where are you?” Harry inquired warily.

“Oh, erm… I’m in Jay’s bathroom. His shower’s basically sound proof and he’s asleep so he won’t notice how long I’m gone.” Louis murmured, barely loud enough for the small mic to pick up.

“You had to hide in the bathroom so you could talk to us.” I stated, not even bothering to make it a question.

“Jamie’s just really protective you know and he’s not exactly fond of y-“

“Louis shut the hell up.” I cut him off. “That’s absolutely ridiculous. Why are you defending him?”

He looked like I’d slapped him (and now that the camera had completely adjusted I was almost positive that I saw a few bruises across his cheek) “He’s my boyfriend, Zayn.”

“Trust me, Lou, we’re painfully aware.” I sassed.

“Well don’t be a dick then. You know Jay and I are a thing. We’ve been together for months now.”

“Yeah and everything else about your life has gone down hill.” I muttered.

“Had I known you were just going to attack my relationship again I wouldn’t have agreed to talk to you.” Louis pouted, Leaning back against the shower tile.

“Guys please don’t fight. We’re just worried about you, Boo Bear. Please listen to us? We want what’s best for you, I promise.” Harry tried to placate Louis, which only served to make me angrier.

“Everyone wants what’s best for me, don’t they? So if that’s true then why isn’t everyone’s idea of what’s best for me the same, huh? Probably because none of you actually know what you’re talking about!” Louis threw his hands up with his sudden outburst. “At least Jamie’s honest with me!”

“Jamie isn’t honest with you!” Harry and I both yelled at the same time.

“I’m not having this conversation again.”

“Fine!” I laughed without humor, feeling almost crazy with anger at his inability to just fucking understand. “Fine! Don’t! Starve to death thinking you’re fat, let him beat the hell out you and lie to you and treat you like shit! Do whatever the fuck you want, Louis! You were right, Hary! I. Give. Up.”

Harry stared at me, mouth agape like he can’t believe what I just said.

I kind of can’t believe it either.

And then, of course, Louis started fucking crying. Well fuck that. I stood and began to stalk out of the room with a muttered “I’ll be in the god damn kitchen.”

“Oh, baby. Lou, darling shh, it’s okay. He didn’t mean it. Oh, sweetheart, no, I’ll never give up on you. I love you too much, Loubear.” I heard Harry frantically trying to soothe him, probably losing a few tears himself, as I walked into the hallway.

Nothing ever changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going on a bit of a hiatus and I'll get back to this when I get back to it. Thanks .xx


	4. Fuck, I'm In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's pretend the last, like, five months didn't happen. 
> 
> but for real though i'm really sorry and i don't blame you if you just decide not to read this because i am an asshole and i can't believe i went this long without updating please, someone, kill me. i love you all.

_Shit._ I think in a panic _shit, fuck, shit this is a lot of blood it won’t stop bleeding shit shit shit shit where’s the butterfly bandages_

When I’d dragged the razor across the inside of my elbow, I had known something was off. It hurt in a way that was impossible to ignore like I usually could.

Of course I’d hit a fucking vein.

“Oh, god…” I groaned, feeling light headed as I bent to search my closet for the first aid kit.

“Fuck…”

“Harry what are you groaning about in there?” Zayn yelled from outside my door.

“Uh… I… wanking?” I called back feebly.

“I know what you sound like when you’re wanking, Harry. These walls are thin. You sound like you need a doctor right now and you’re either going to open this door or I’m calling an ambulance.”

“Zayn, no. I really can’t right now. Please just go. I’m fine.” I begged, praying to whatever god there was that Zayn would actually listen to me for once.

He was quiet for a moment before he told me “I have 911 dialed on my phone and I am pressing the call button unless you unlock this door right now.”

“I’m coming, fuck, just don’t say anything, okay?” I said, scrambling for the door and turning the lock, taking a step back and doing my best to cover my cuts when Zayn walked in.

It was a pretty fruitless attempt considering I was spouting blood like a garden hose.

“Oh, _God_...” Zayn gasped, his hand flying to his mouth in shock and his eyes widening in alarm. “Jesus _Christ_ , Harry, _why_ in the _world_ would you _do_ that.”

My throat was clogged with ashamed tears and I just barely managed to whisper a choked “I just, um, do.”

“You just do? That’s all you have to say?”  
“Um, no, I… I’m sorry? I don’t know.” I stuttered.

“Yeah? Well I don’t know either anymore. Give me your arm, you look like you’re about to pass out.” Zayn requested, reaching for my hand and _tut_ -ing when he sees the depth of the scar I’d just made. “You might need stitches, Harry. I need to take you to the hospital.”

“NO!” I yelled “No, no, no. I can’t go to the hospital. Absolutely not.”

“Haz, your arm is-“

“No.”

“You need medical-“

“No.”

“Har-“

“ _No_.” I said finally. “I’m not going to the hospital, Zayn. Now you can either leave, or you can help me find the butterfly bandages.”

Zayn sighed, looking at me with sad caramel eyes and reaching for the first aid kit that I’d thrown onto the bed in my haste to unlock the door. He began removing different supplies until he came across the box he needed, unwrapping the sterile bandage and peeling off the adhesive tapes. He pinched the skin on either side of my cut until it was closed and placed the closure on my arm, repeating the action three more times before he wrapped a gauze around it, his expression purely clinical the entire time.

“Now do you want to explain to me why I just had to prevent you from bleeding out on the fucking floor?” he asked “Want to explain why there are a thousand and one of these all over your arm?”

I swallowed back another flood of tears and whispered “No.” in a shaky voice, wiping furiously at my cheeks.

_He’s going to find out. He probably already knows. You’re filthy, Harry. You’re so wrong. So, so, bad. Fag._

“Harry Edward Styles.” He snapped.

“Zayn Javadd Malik.” I sassed back despite the rivulets of tears running down my face.

Zayn’s expression softened and he sighed, biting his lip. “Hazza, please let me help you.”

“I can’t, Zee. Like, maybe one day? Maybe soon, even, but I can’t right now. I just can’t.” total lie, I never planned to tell him, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him too bad.

He sighed heavily, biting his lip and giving me a look of intense concern “I can’t keep letting you do this, Haz. You know that.”

“You can’t tell. Please, Zayn, you can’t.”

“You have to promise me, _promise me_ , that if you even _think_ about it, you’ll come straight to me. No more of this, okay? You could die, Harry. Then what would we do without our little curly haired muppet? It’d be awfully sad.” He murmured, pulling me into his arms and rubbing my back soothingly. “So promise me, Harry.”

I nodded, sniffling and wiping at my tear-stained cheeks, “I promise, Zee. I’m sorry.”

“Okay, bub. Okay. I love you a lot, Hazzy. Like a brother. Please keep that in mind next time you think of cutting yourself up, yeah? I love you a lot. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

I went to sleep that night with an ache in my arm and a sick feeling in my stomach.

_No one could ever_ really _love you, fag._

 

School the next day was even quieter than usual, considering Niall is sick and Liam and Zayn decided to pick a corner in every room we entered to whisper to each other. In all honesty, it was making me a bit paranoid.

“Why are Zayn and Liam being all quiet? Is Zayn mad at me? Because of, you know…” Louis trialed off, leaning over his seat at the lunch table to whisper to me while eyeing Liam and Zayn whispering to each other at the other end of the table.

“No, of course not. It probably has something to do with me. Had a lovely little fight this weekend, he’s probably just upset.”

Louis pouted, crossing his arms and looking at his lap. “I _hate_ when Zayn ignores me.”

“I know, little love. You’re stuck with me for now.” I tried to joke, smiling weakly.

_Stupid_

_You’re the worst one to get stuck with_

_I bet he wishes Niall was here, so he didn’t have to be all alone with you_

_Fag._

I whimpered involuntarily, biting my lip and ignoring the inquiring look that Louis sent my way.

“Shouldn’t grimace like that, lovely Hazza. Your face’ll grow that way, and we can’t have that! You’ll lose your dimples!”

And, well, Louis was smiling at me like the damn sunshine. Fuck, I’m in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoomp, there it is.


End file.
